I Wish She Was My Mother
by Invader-Hime
Summary: SKMarie Perrault removes the glass from Erik's hands after the infamous birthday scene and overhears something of a secret wish. MARIE POV


A Marie Perrault POV fic. It takes place after the birthday incident in Phantom by Susan Kay. I always wanted to do a short Marie piece and a POTO fic. So, here it is!

Disclaimer: Marie belongs to SK. Erik to everyone seeing as he is in public domain, but he was created by Gaston Leroux.

I Wish She Was My Mother

By Chibi Hime

"Hold Still, Erik Dear"

I held the thin boy in my lap on top of his mother's large bed. Small rivers of blood had dripped down his poor hands and had left a trail from the shattered mirror to his current location. I felt him quiver in my arms.

"Erik Dear, I am sorry, but this will hurt"

I held his hand, a mass of shredded flesh and bits of glass. I placed the cold metal tweezers against the raw open wound and grasped a large piece of glass. I eased it out as easily as I possibly could.

"Ouch" he said weakly, as if it were a half concealed sob.

My heart shatters.

"ShhhhhhhShhhhShhh...It is alright. But we must get these pieces of glass out of you, yes"

I try to sound cheerful around him, I really do! I cannot imagine the daily sufferings he must endure at the hands of his mother. I wish I could whisk him away from this place. I wish that I could tell him how wonderful he was...and have him only believe me! His poor misshapen lips, now a dark shade of purple, twitch, as if he were to sob at any minute. All I can do is hold his thin, wiry body close to mine in hopes that some of my warmth will comfort him. He is a very good boy. He holds still and rarely twitches as, one by one, each of the cruel needles of shattered glass are plucked from his skin. One b one, they come loose with a little spray of blood. He whimpers, but only a little. His tiny voice rips at my heart. How could anyone, let alone his own mother, my friend, do this to him? Once again she betrays me. All I try to do is help her poor boy, to give him some aspects of a normal life. All I wanted to do was celebrate his birthday, to sit beside him and see him smile, to allow him to see that life can be beautiful, to see that he is loved.

The flesh on his hands will never be the same again. In one ill moment, he has been scarred forever in more ways than one. Sometimes, I truly hate Madeleine. How could anyone do this to their child? How could anyone keep him ignorant, then expect him to understand a situation he cannot fathom? And on his birthday!

I bind his hands quickly and tightly. I shudder to think how much blood he has lost. The poor child looks down at his mitten like bandages, unable to move his nimble fingers. His poor little face is haunted by more than pain.

"I...I will be right back Erik Dear. I am going to fetch your nightclothes" I explain. I know he would be terrified to be left alone without an explanation. Even as I make for the door, I can see the desperation in his eyes. But, he is a brave boy and simply nods. I make my way back as quickly as possible.

As I begin to dress him for bed, he speaks coherently to me.

"Did you see it too? Did you see it Mademoiselle Perrault? Why would Mama show me the thing in the mirror? I didn't mean to be naughty! The mask...it just hurt me. It hurt my face! I didn't know what else to do! It hurt too much to leave on anymore! I'm sorry! I'm sorry " he began to sob and buried his face in my shoulder.

Oh, God! I wanted to take this child home with me! To protect him from this madness! but, alas! I cannot. All I can do is offer him some comfort.

I wrap my arms around his small frame. I hold him tightly to me. I rub the back of his head, running my hand through his soft, whispy hair.

"Oh, Erik Dear! You have nothing to be sorry about! It is alright. You did nothing wrong, it is just that your mother is so terribly rash. She is easily upset by the smallest infractions. I know it hurt you, darling and I don't care if you come downstairs with that stifling mask off. I am glad you spoke up for yourself"

He mumbled something into my dress.

"What is that" I ask timidly.

He looks up at me with questioning eyes.

"Nothing" he looks down.

"Alright"

I continue the process of tucking him into the massive bed. I fluff the pillows, pull up the comforter, and check his bandages once more. The poor child asked me to fetch his mother-That ghastly woman! Why, I cannot imagine, but I will fulfill the wish of this child, it is his birthday after all.

As I make for the door, his tiny voice reaches my ears. It is a sentence I am not meant to hear, I am sure, but the poor boy seems to say it for his own comfort.

"I wish she was my Mama"

My heart catches in my throat and I must make my way down the stairs before my tears give way to sobs. I do not wish to trouble Erik Dear any more than absolutely necessary. Has not the poor child already been through enough? I finally reach a distant hallway. I sink slowly to the floor, sobbing to myself. Deep, quiet sobs that sound like the panicked breathes of a hopeless cause. After a few moments, I gather my strength. I make my way resolutely towards the sitting room. She cannot continue to abuse the child like this! She cannot! I will no longer be a doormat for this madwoman. Tonight, I will tell her that she should hang and burn for all the heinous things she has done to that poor innocent child. I inhale sharply and push the door open. She's sitting there, making a new mask. Naturally. She's to selfish to give him anything that he really wants for his birthday.

I wish I could make Erik's wish come true.

END


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